


Celebrating Satinalia

by inquisitorsmabari



Series: Inquisitor Amelie Trevelyan [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Parenthood, Post-Canon, Satinalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitorsmabari/pseuds/inquisitorsmabari
Summary: The Inquisitor has work to finish and a child to put to bed, but Satinalia is so exciting for children, especially when it snows.





	1. Satinalia Eve

“Mama, look!”

Knee deep in paperwork and reports, Amelie looked up only briefly from the stack of papers on her desk, which was becoming increasingly more dark and foreboding in the waning light of the candles. It was hard to return to that pile after catching the sight of her five year old son, standing on his toes with his nose pressed against the glass window. It was even worse when he turned to look at her, catching her with his warm brown eyes hidden under a mess or curly red hair.

“Come and look!” He cried, pointing excitedly at the window and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“What is it?”

“Snow!” The joy in his expression, the wide smile which showed the gaps in his teeth, pulled her away from her work for good. Coming to join him at the window, she sat on the floor next to him, her head next to his, watching the tiny specks of white dance in the night sky before falling to the ground far below. “Can I go out and play?”

“No!” She cried. “You're meant to be going to bed.”

“But what if it isn't showing when I wake up and I never get to see snow again?”

“I'm sure it will be,”

“But what if it isn't.” He whined, his lips pouting as he stared longingly through the glass.

“It's bedtime, Armin,”

“Hmph,” His sigh of defeat misted up the glass in front of him, his little fingers falling away from the window and hanging loosely at his side. “But I'm not tired!”

“You know,” She began, running her fingers through his red curls. “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it will be Satinalia.”

“And I can open my presents?’ He cried with delight, looking at the pile of presents which had grown steadily over the last few weeks.

“Yes, of course,” She replied. “Now go on, get in to bed.”

“Alright,” He said with a sigh, dragging himself over to his bed with heavy feet that dragged along the wooden floor before pulling himself under the covers. He looked so small and fragile when she pulled the covers right under his chin, with only his small head poking out the top obscured by wild hair that desperately needed cutting. It was like he was a baby again, rather than the talkative, cheeky, five year old who could run the length of Skyhold and still have all the energy of a firecracker. “Where’s papa?” He asked, his eyes beginning to glaze over as sleep began to take over.

“He's working,” She told him, stroking his tangled hair as she thought of Cullen battling the cold in his drafty office, faced with a dangerously high pile of reports as the night closed in. “He'll take you out in the snow tomorrow.”

“He will?” He cried with glee as if she had promised him the world. She loathed the fact that she couldn’t play with him as Cullen did, but she could watch them for hours, chasing and tackling each other, Cullen feigning defeat as his son pulled on his arms and legs so that they both fell to the ground, laughing and giggling as she watched.

“Yea,” She said. “But you'll have to get some sleep first.”

“Can you tell me a story?” He asked, the same question he asked every time it was her turn to put him to bed.

“Which one?”

“Hmm,” He hummed thoughtfully. “Tell me about the fade!”

“Again?” She asked with a laugh.

“Yea!” He cried with excitement, but he didn't last long. She hadn't even got to the spiders yet, the part where he would laugh that her greatest fear was the eight legged beasts, when he had dropped off to sleep, making his own way to the fade. Behind them, the large pile of papers taunted her once again and, with a sigh, she dragged herself over to her desk, dreading the long night of work ahead. While she worked, her son breathed heavy with the throes of sleep.

Life was easy when you were five years old, and Satinalia was a great deal more exciting too. Somehow, she simultaneously looked forward to, and dreaded, tomorrow morning.


	2. Satinalia Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before...

“Why in the name of Andraste did you sign me up for this?” As he spoke, Amelie turned to look at Cullen with a smile as suspicious as the one their son wore, her eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter. 

“I thought you'd want to spend some time with your son,” She said softly, her fingers tracing invisible lines upon the skin of his arm.

“Yea but it's so early,” He moaned, his voice muffled as he sunk his head below the covers, covers which were being pulled away by the fingers of a five year old.

“Come on, Papa!” Armin said, pulling at the thick blanket with all his might. “Mama said you'd play with me!”

“I know, I know,” Cullen replied, poking his head out of the covers to meet his son's gaze, his head only inches from his, his wide brown eyes which matched his own staring into his soul. “Go on then let's get you wrapped up.” He told him, pulling himself up out of the warm bed where he was greeted by not just an excited child, but a blast of icy air which pricked his skin and sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly grabbed his clothes and warm coat while his son ran around the room half dressed chanting ‘Snow snow snow!’. 

“Have fun out there in the cold, Cullen.” Amelie said next to him, looking far to smug as she lay beneath the thick blankets, warm and content in her victory, a victory he was about to steal.

“Hey, Armin.” He said to the child as he tightened the fastenings on the expensive new coat his grandparents had bought for him. “Your mother said she wants to come too.”

“She did?” He asked, his voice shrill with excitement as he beamed at his mother, who now looked as if she had been caught in a trap, which was exactly what he had done. She looked between them as they looked at her, the three of them locked in a silent debate. But he knew she couldn't win, he knew she couldn't resist.

“Yea, that's right,” She said with a sigh, earning an excited cry from their son. “Pass me my clothes then, Cullen.” 

He threw the bundle of clothes at her in triumph, he would pay for this later, He imagined, but it would be worth it. Not just for goading her out of her warm quarters, but also for the look on their son's face, the beaming smile which proudly showed the gaps in his teeth. She'd sat out of these things so often, and he knew it was hard for her with only one arm, but he also knew that it pained her to watch from the sidelines, especially now that he was getting older and had so much more energy.

“Hurry up!” Armin cried as he ran to the door, the two of them trailing behind even as they entered the stairwell and the great hall, right out until they descended the stairs into the courtyard. He could see Amelie's face twisting with concern as he picked his way down the stairs but, to his surprise, she said nothing. It must've been the magic of Satinalia, or she was just tired.

As soon as the stairs levelled out, and their feet sunk through inches of snow, he ran after him. He would admit, it took some effort, the snow dragging him down and slowing him, but the five year old was almost lost within the snow drifts, and it took only a few long strides to catch him and lift him up into the crisp blue air. He squealed with delight, his face contorting with laughter as Cullen restrained him in his strong arms. He vowed to enjoy this while he could, one day this boy could be stronger than him. Or they would have another child, and his attention would be shared. But he knew that was unlikely. They never dwelt on that.

Except Amelie was like a child, when she wanted to be. There was a noise behind, the swirling of snow and ice and the whoosh of cold air. But before he could turn to look, a cold, hard, wet object hit his back with some force. Behind him, he heard her laugh, almost exactly in sync with their son's frantic giggles.

He turned to see her stood innocently in the snow, her arm extended ever so slightly, palm open in a stance he knew well, a mages battle stance. She'd clawed back her victory with her secret weapon, but he'd be damned if he was going to let this slide. He placed the child down gently on to the snow, before leaning down and whispering in his ear.

“Go and get her.”

He ran off screaming, his own little battle cry, causing her to turn and run, but she wasn't fast enough. He got her with the smallest snowball he'd ever seen, but she flailed and screamed as if he were a mighty lion chasing prey, rather than a cub chasing its mother. 

It didn't take long until the complaints of cold were heard, and they soon found themselves drying out in front of the fire in the great hall, their son curled up on his mother's lap as she played with his curly red hair. 

“What made you agree to come out with us?” He asked her. “I didn't think you'd actually say yes.”

“Its that face,” She said, looking up at him with soft green eyes. 

“His face?” 

“Both of you.” She said, reaching her hand out to close around his, her fingers so small and dainty, but cold, so cold, enough to make him shiver despite the heat from the fire. 

“Happy Satinalia,” He said, planting a kiss on her fingers.

“Happy Satinalia, Cullen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to you all! And to all those who have supported my works this year, thank you, it means so much to me to hear all the positive feedback and to see all the kudos you've left. I hope this next year brings wonderful things to you all. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Look out for a part 2 some time tomorrow from a Cullen pov, but I can't promise when ;)


End file.
